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His word was ftill, Fie, foh, and fum,

I fmell the blood of a British mán.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII. Changes to Glo'fler's cafle.

Enter Cornwall and Edmund.

Corn. I will have revenge ere I depart his houfe. Edm. How, my Lord, I may be cenfur'd that nature thus gives way to loyalty; fomething fears me to think of.

Corn. I now perceive it was not altogether your brother's evil difpofition made him feek his death: but a provoking merit, fet a-work by a reprovable badness in himself.

Edm. How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be juft? This is the letter which he spoke of; which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages of France. Oh heavens! that this treafon were not; or not I the detector!

Corn. Go with me to the Duchefs.

Edm. If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty bufinefs in hand.

Corn. True or falfe, it hath made thee Earl of Glo'fter: feek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehenfion.

Edm. If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his fufpicion more fully-[afide.] I will perfevere in my courfe of loyalty, though the conflict be fore between that and my blood.

[Aloud. Corn. I will lay trust upon thee, and thou fhalt find a dearer father in my love.

[Exeunt. SCENE IX. A Chamber in a farm house.

Enter Kent and Glo'fter.

Glo. Here is better than the open air, take it thankfully I will piece out the comfort with what addition

:

I can ;

I will not be long from you.

[Exit. Kent. All the power of his wits has given way to his impatience the gods reward your kindness!

Enter Lear, Edgar, and Fool.

Ed. Fraterreto calls me, and tells me,

Nero is an

angler

angler in the lake of darkness pray innocent, and beware the foul fiend.

1

Fool Pr'ythee, nuncle, tell me, whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman? Lear. A King, a King.

Fool. No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his fon for he's a mad yeoman that fees his fon a' gentleman before him.

Lear. To have a thousand with red-burning fpits Come hizzing in upon 'em

Edg. The foul fiend bites my back.

Foel. He's mad that trufts in the tameness of a wolf, the heels of a horfe, the love of a boy, or the oath of a whore.

Lear. It fhall be done, I will arraign 'em straight. Come, fit thou here, moft learned jufticer; [To the fool. Thou fapient Sir, fit here-now, ye fhe-foxes !

[To Edgar. Edg. Look where she stands and glares. Wanteft thou: At trial, Madam ?

Come o'er the broom, Befly, to me.
Fool Her loat bath a leak, and fhe must not speak

Why he dares not come over to thee.

[eyes

Edg. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two white herrings. Croak not, black angel, I have no food. for thee.

Kent. How do you, Sir? ftand you not fo amaz'd; Will you lie down and reft upon the cushions?

Lear. I'll fee their trial first, bring me in the evidence. Thou robed man of juftice, take thy place;

And thou his yoke-fellow of equity,

Bench by his fide. You are o' th' commiffion, fit you too.

Edg. Let us deal juftly..

Sleepeft or wakejt thou, jolly shepherd?

Thy fheep be in the corn;

And for one blast of thy minikin mouth,

Thy Sheep fhall take no harm.

Purre, the cat, is grey.

Lear. Arraign her firft, 'tis Gonerill. I here take my oath before this honourable affembly, she kick'd the poor King her father.

Fool,

Fool. Come hither, Miftrefs. Is your name Gonerill? Lear. She cannot deny it.

Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-ftool. Lear. And here's another, whofe warpt looks proclaim What store her heart is made of. Stop her there; Arm, arms, fword, fire,-corruption in the place! Falfe jufticer, why haft thou let her 'scape? Edg. Blefs thy five wits.

Kent. O pity! Sir, where is the patience now That you fo oft have boafted to retain ?

Edg. My tears begin to take his part to much, They mar my counterfeiting.

Lear. The little dogs and all,

[Afide.

Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, fee, they bark at me—

Edg. Tom will through his head at them; avaunt, you Be thy mouth or black or white,

Tooth that poifons if it bite;
Maftiff, grey-hound, mongrel grim,
Hound or fpaniel, brache, or hym;
Or bobtail tike, or trundle-tail,
Tom will make him weep and wail:
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.

[curs!

Do, de, de, de: Seffey, come, march to wakes and fairs, And market towns; poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan fee what breeds about her heart- -Is there any cause in nature that makes thefe hard hearts?" You, Sir, I entertain "for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fa"fhion of your garments. You will fay they are Per"fian; but let them be chang'd.

Re-enter Glo'fier.

Kent. Now, good my Lord, lie here and reft a while. Lear. Make no noife, make no noife, draw the curSo, fo, we'll go to fupper i' th' morning. [tains;

Fool. And I'll go to bed at noon.

Glo. Come hither, friend. Where is the King, my

mafter?

Kent. Here, Sir, but trouble him not; his wits are

gone.

Glo. Good friend, I pr'ythee, take him in thy arms:

I

I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him: 'There is a litter ready, lay him in't,

And drive tow❜rd Dover, friend, where thou fhalt meet
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master.
If thou should'ft dally half an hour, his life,

With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in affured lofs. Take up, take up,
And follow me, that will to fome provifion
Give thee quick conduct.

Kent. Opprefs'd nature fleeps:

This reft might yet have balm'd thy broken senses,
Which, if conveniency will not allow,

Come, help to bear thy mafter;

Stand in hard cure.

Thou must not stay behind.

[To the fool. Glo. Come, come, away. [Exe. bearing off the King. Manet Edgar.

Edg. When we our betters fee bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes. Who alone fuffers, fuffers moft i' th' mind; Leaving free* things, and happy shows behind; But then the mind much fuffrance does o'erfkip, When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship. How light and portable my pain feems now, When that which makes me bend, makes the King bow! He childed, as I father'd! -Tom, away;

Mark the high noises, and thyfelf bewray †, *** When falfe opinion, whofe wrong thought defiles thee, In thy juft proof repeals, and reconciles thee.

What will hap more to-night; fafe 'fcape the King! Lurk, lurk. [Exit Edgar.

SCENE X.

Changes to Glo'fler's cafle.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gonerill, Edmund, and Ser

vants.

Corn. Poft fpeedily to my Lord your husband, fhew

*free, for undisturbed.

him

Between this and the following words, fomething is wanting, which makes the following words unconnected and obfcure, and thefe unintelligible, as being only the beginning of a fentence.

him this letter; the army of France is landed: feek out the traitor Glo'fter.

Reg. Hang him inftantly.

Gon. Pluck out his eyes.

take

Corn. Leave him to my difpleasure. Edmund, keep you our fifter company; the revenges we are bound to upon your traiterous father, are not fit for your beholding. Advife the Duke, where you are going, to a moft feftinate preparation; we are bound to the like. Our pofts shall be swift, and intelligent betwixt us. Fare wel, dear sister; farewel, my Lord of Glo'ster.

Enter Steward.

How now? where's the King?

Stew. My Lord of Glo'fter hath convey'd him hence, Some five or fix and thirty of his Knights,

Hot queftrifts after him, met him at gate;

Who with fome other of the Lord's dependents, are gone with him tow'rd Dover; where they boaft To have well-armed friends.

Corn. Get horfes for your mistress.

Gon. Farewel, fweet Lord, and fifter.

Corn. Edmund, Farewel..

Glo'iter;

[Exeunt Gonerill and Edmund.
-Go feek the traitor
[To the Servants.

Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us:
Though well we may not pafs upon his life
Without the form of justice; yet our pow'r
Shall do a court'fy to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not controul.

SCENE XI.

Enter Glofter, brought in by Servants.

Who's there! the traitor?

Reg. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.

Corn. Bind faft his corky arms.

Glo. What mean your Graces? Good my friends,

confider

You are my guefts: do me no foul play, friends.

Corn. Bind him, I fay.

Reg. Hard, hard: O filthy traitor!

[They bind him.

Glo

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